Silent Must Die
by Designated NPC
Summary: A young man arrives in Kisaragi City, and his dual-colored eyes see the change on the horizon. Dark shadows gather in the hearts of the city's people... A novelization and retelling of the game, to pave the way for the future.


Kisaragi has always been a city by the sea, and despite its urban title it's always seemed more the small, semi-rural town. It has a business district, a downtown district, and countless apartments, but somehow they pale in the minds of those who see it; mostly, what visitors remember is a wide blue sky and the ocean on all sides. Kisaragi is technically an island, separated from the Japanese inland by a wandering saltwater inlet from the Pacific Ocean, and it could well be this physical separation that makes the city seem… distant, even while one stands on its asphalt roads.

Salty air, blue skies, and a sea that goes on forever: For those who arrive in Kisaragi, it all feels very much like a dream.

On this day the waves seem to crash just a little harder, throwing white foam up the sandy beaches and the sheer cliffsides and around the legs of the bridge; the winds seem to whip with the slightest edge of joyous ferocity, and the sky is an unbearably gorgeous blue. The entire city and the world around it feels as if it's stretching its limbs and breathing deeply, as if it's only newly awakened from some terrible nightmare and is grateful to find that it was just a bad dream. In Kisaragi, the heartbeat of the city returns to normal as its citizens shake off their long, dark sleep.

Those who walk the well-swept streets, and those who cast their eyes on the tossing sea, have no idea that their bad dream was very, very real, nor have they any inkling of just how close they came to complete destruction. This, thinks Atsuki, is the way that it should be; this is the way that all stories should end, with the darkness dissipated and the bad times already forgotten.

Atsuki stands on the bridge that spans the Pacific inlet, hands in his pockets against the wind, and no-one comes out to the edge of the city to see the boy with the pale skin and the smoky hair and the topaz eyes that, for some reason, seem unbearably sad. Atsuki is part of that bad dream and he knows it; he's lived it ever since that night in the orphanage or maybe even before that, when he'd first understood the callousness of the world and the despair in the human heart. The city of Kisaragi has forgotten him as well, as they should do, and their unheralded savior will fade into the distance like the Sandman at dawn.

This isn't the first time that Atsuki's played the reluctant hero, drawn away at the end of the tale to walk the earth once more. He knows that being forgotten is the last kindness he can do for the people of Kisaragi, who – against all odds – he's come to cherish, perhaps even love. It's not the first time that Atsuki will leave a place as if he were never there.

It is, however, the first time he's ever regretted it so badly or wished so hard that he could stay. Atsuki doesn't understand his feelings, not after so long, and so he stands there and holds the city's skyline in his view as if he could capture it with his eyes, and the taste of saltwater air is bitter on his tongue.

In the distance the sound of a train calls attention to itself, a silver bullet streaking from the station and starting across the mainland. It's only a few meters above the waterline but the tide is out as the bullet train moves on without pause, carrying passengers and conductors and a small horde of well-paid agents in well-thought-out disguises, along with the equipment sealed neatly in packing-crates and the man who had given Atsuki the chance to face Destiny in Kisaragi. Atsuki watches the silver blur and – not for the first time – he hates Ray Platière and all the man has done. It's an irrational feeling and Atsuki releases it into the Aether as soon as it arrives, but the feeling is there nonetheless.

Irrational, because how was Ray to know that anything would be different this time? They'd accomplished countless such assignments before and most had needed a week's worth of effort, if that; in the beginning, though they'd know the Shanghai Vector would require a slightly more concentrated effort, there had been no way to guess what would occur. Not even Ray Platière could have seen it coming.

But Atsuki doesn't begrudge himself that feeling, because it's been a long time since something like that occurred to him and he doesn't know if or when such a feeling will return.

The air ripples and the shadows that gather at the base of the railing seems to expand into the light, and then Liu Yee is standing there – tall and neatly-pressed like always, looking as though he hadn't been put through the wringer by a rogue psychic – and Atsuki is used to this by now, so he doesn't respond. Liu Yee looks briefly irritated from a fair distance away, and then he too turns his gaze to a city that now sits naive and clean beneath the blue sky.

"Looks like everyone else is already gone," comments Liu, and Atsuki quirks an eyebrow at his words; Liu isn't one for smalltalk, which means that Atsuki's state must be pretty pathetic right now. Atsuki only nods, and a disgruntled expression crosses his partner's face.

"Figures. First ones in, last ones out like always— For once I'd like to see the Cats or the Fish beat us to it."

Atsuki's lips almost quirk at that, just because the idea's so very out-of-character whether or not Liu Yee knows it: Liu is a control-freak at every scene, and the thought of the Intelligence branch walking all over 'his' target area is a ludicrous one. But when Atsuki finally speaks, he's not laughing.

"Why is it so hard, sometimes?

"To leave everything behind, like we always do?"

There's a heavy pause, as if there might just be a response, and then Liu Yee only lapses into silence: It's not the first time he's heard that question, nor is it the last time, he's sure, why he'll curse the fact that there's no easy answer. Atsuki says nothing more, only focuses on the feel of the cold railing beneath his arms and the cold wind blowing through his clothes and he wonders: When had he let himself get so attached to Kisaragi, to its people? When had he let his training lapse enough to get close to them, as he'd sworn he'd never do again? Atsuki shuts his eyes against the sunlight glaring off the blue-green water and he can still see the bright shadows against the back of his lids.

To think that it all started with Shanghai. No, it had begun long before that rainy, smog-choked night, but the Shanghai Incident had truly been the moment when the wheels of Fate had begun to turn…

* * *

**Author's Notes:** This is a re-telling of the Lux-Pain game, because between the poor translations and the game-oriented play it felt like it needed a novelization. Additionally, I'll be expanding on my own concepts including going in-depth on FORT and working out the specifics glossed over during the game itself; as a result this fic will be somewhat **A/U**. If all goes well, I plan on writing a sequel-fic – a sequel to the fic's version of the game – as well as possible supplementary work (side-stories, 'guides,' and so on).

**Warnings:** Heterosexual romance, deep platonic friendship, and the _faintest_ whispers of **shonen-ai**, directed at Atsuki. If you really _must_ know the 'pairings,' let me know and I'll include them in the next chapter's author's-notes. **Violence** and **gore**, mostly in flashbacks, and **expanded backgrounds** and **roles for characters**.


End file.
